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...y on a raft, threatened by a horror that had already devoured his friends. You were nine, and the story scared a living daylight out of you. That whole summer you wouldn’t go anywhere near the water, took you two more to gather the courage to come near a raft again. Everyone teased you about that, including your little sister (not that your parents noticed, too busy with their careers and parties and golf). That’s retarded, you think, I was just a kid. It was a stupid story, but a tiny little voice somewhere inside of your head persists "but it ate them, it ATE them, and he was left alone with water all around him just like you now and then it got dark" and you yell "IT WAS JUST A STORY!!!" into the darkness just to make the voice stop.
You sit up, pull your knees up and hug your legs; lean your head down and whisper, "I’m a grown man now. I’m a grown man" and that is when a mighty blow from below rocks the raft.
Hollering in surprise you fall back in the water, arms and legs flailing
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excerpt from Questworld by
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